


The Broken End

by deputyydipshit



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-02-27 22:04:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18748006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deputyydipshit/pseuds/deputyydipshit
Summary: Wynonna breaks the news to Nicole that Waverly is gone, and Nicole doesn't take it well at all. The journey Nicole, and the remaining members of Team Earp, take isn't an easy one, but it isn't one they have much choice of either. This angsty tale picks up right where season 3 ended, and takes you through Nicole's struggles and how she manages to get by as more days pass without Waverly.





	1. Part A - The Journey

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I'm finally able to post this! I've been super hard at work perfecting this story, and I'm so excited to finally be able to share it with you! Originally, this was only going to have one part, it was going to be a standard one shot, but as I wrote I found that I didn't want to be rushing anything in order to get to the end. I didn't want to make this too long, either, so I have decided to post this story in two parts.
> 
> This part (Part A) is, from the most part, a third person perspective of Nicole. The second part (Part B) will be the same way but from Waverly's perspective. I really hope you enjoy this story, because I've had so much fun writing it and testing my hand at a completely new writing style.
> 
> Enjoy!

Three days after Waverly had been taken from them, Wynonna and Nedley had found everyone that had supposedly gone missing. Valdez, Purgatory’s newest face had taken those that remained in the city to a location of safety, not trusting things to end well. After several detailed conversations with the people of the town, and many reports filed for missing animals and persons, the news finally started to settle upon them. Nedley had called Chrissy to inform her of what had happened, discovering that she was currently traveling around Europe, safe. Wynonna had told Jeremy and Robin first, knowing that it would be easiest that way, and that breaking the news to _her_ would be far harder and more painful. Wynonna didn’t want to be the one to tell her, but she needed to be.

_“Waverly is gone, trapped in the garden with Doc.”_

The words hit Nicole like a semi-truck on the highway. No amount of caution could have been given to lessen the pain that it would bring upon her; she could never be prepared for such devastation. The woman she loved, the only person who made her feel truly happy, had been taken from her. Waverly had been ripped from her life against her will and Nicole had done nothing to stop it, because she was drugged and passed out.

It’s was all Wynonna’s fault.

The anger came immediately. There was no gradual buildup, no final straw that broke the camel’s back, it hit her at full force and there wasn’t anything that could stop it. First, it was anger at the Garden, anger at Bulshar and the curse that was placed upon the Earp family. Bulshar had sealed Waverly’s fate the second Widow Mercedes and Widow Beth rose him from his grave, but she never thought that it would end this way, she never thought that she would be taken from them. Bulshar was an easy target to throw her anger at like an axe, but he was killed by Wynonna’s hand and was no longer a threat to them. Without the Sheriff Clootie running rampant and cursing towns, condemning them to the end of the world, there was only one other person Nicole could be angry with.

\- - - - -

Five days after Waverly had been taken from them, Nicole’s anger began to grow even stronger, burning like an ever-growing flame that could not be put out. The need for revenge on a dead man slowly subsided and Nicole began to direct her anger at the next blamable person: the former Earp heir herself.

“How could you do this?” Nicole had shouted, the silent anger that had been bubbling up inside of her finally being vocalized. “How could you leave us there when you knew we needed to help?”

Wynonna stood by and took the verbal beating like it was what she deserved, because it _was_ what she deserved. She admitted to Nicole that drugging her, Jeremy, and Robin was a mistake, but it was something that she had to do. She couldn’t risk losing all of them, too. She told Nicole that she didn’t want to see the looks on their faces if she failed, she couldn’t bear to see the disappointment that mirrored the faces of what few members of her family remained. Nicole called bull shit, claiming all Wynonna cared about, all she ever seemed to care about, was protecting her ego. Waverly was her sister, so she felt like being the one to save her would make her the hero of Purgatory, that drugging her friends would prevent them from taking any of the spotlight.

“For once in your life, Nicole, can’t you realize that maybe I actually have feelings?” Wynonna yelled. “She’s my sister, the only _real_ family I have left, and if you don’t think for one second I wasn’t going to fight like hell to keep her safe, _for her sake_ , then maybe you aren’t the one Waverly should be with.”

“Because of you, I’m _not_ with her! She’s trapped in the fucking Garden of Eden!” Nicole slammed her clenched fists down upon her desk. “You are many things, Wynonna Earp. A drunk, a reckless mess. But above all else, you are a coward,” her voice was alarmingly calm and scarily level, which surprised even herself.

Wynonna shoved the files resting on the edge of Nicole’s desk to the floor in a blind rage of fury. The office grew quiet, neither woman saying anything. They stared at the case files for various missing persons and mysterious goings on, Waverly’s file resting at the top of the pile. Wynonna dropped to her knees to retrieve the files, Peacemaker clattering to the floor, and set them back on Nicole’s desk after apologizing and admitting that drugging her was a moment of pure weakness. Nicole just nodded and gave Wynonna tight-lipped smile before sitting back in her chair to resume filling out paperwork, typing away on her keyboard.

\- - - - -

One week after Waverly had been taken from them, Nicole had stopped talking. Her work became her priority and she broke her back working longer hours, sometimes staying through the night; anything to keep her from going home to an empty apartment, an empty bed. Jeremy tried to lighten the mood by bringing her coffee and doughnuts every morning when he got to the station, cracking some horrible joke about the weather they were having, but she only smiled an empty smile and nodded. Winters in Purgatory were always brutal, the cold becoming numbing and isolating. Sitting in her office, stuck behind her desk with piles of paperwork and reports to file through, Nicole felt more isolated than ever, and it had nothing to do with the weather.

Wynonna had fought like hell to save Waverly, and Doc, but they both were lost in the end. Nicole wasn’t angry at Wynonna for trying. Nicole was angry at Wynonna for thinking that it was a good idea to go into a battle like that alone. Nicole didn’t know what was to happen, she had no idea what Waverly’s fate had been, but she had always known it wasn’t good. Imagine the look of sheer panic on her face after finding out her girlfriend had been offered up as a sacrifice to save Purgatory from complete and total annihilation. Why had Wynonna doubted her abilities? Why had she just assumed that she would be of no use? She was a good cop, she could have helped.

Anger started taking over all other emotion as Nicole began to fill out a missing animal form, her hand jerking across the page, and knocked her coffee off of her desk. The mug fell to the concrete floor of the station, shattering, and coffee pooled near her chair. She stared down at the pile of ceramic and the puddle of coffee, tears welling in her eyes.

It was the mug Waverly had given her on their anniversary last year.

Pushing the emotion from her mind, Nicole rose to her feet to retrieve a broom and dust pan, along with a towel, and knelt down to clean up the mess. She almost laughed at how accurately the mess before her, the pile of ceramic, represented her life at the current moment: easy to clean up but next to impossible to fix. She palmed her eyes dry of tears as she refused to submit herself to Bulshar’s satisfaction, refused to give into what she knew the corpse of their once omnipotent adversary wanted. She tossed the broken cup and towel, that now held the spilled coffee, into the small trash can by her office door and sat back down in the chair behind her desk. She loosened the tie around her neck and unbuttoned the top two buttons of her shirt before placing her elbows on her desk, resting her head in her hands.

\- - - - -

Nine days after Waverly had been taken from them, Nicole entered the station an hour before she was set to go in. She approached her office with slow strides, her boots quiet in the corridor. As she neared her office, she looked up from her phone to see Nedley standing outside the door. He held two paper cups of coffee in his hands, the broken look on his face mirroring her own. She unlocked the door and stepped inside, silently inviting Nedley to do the same. They sat down, Nicole behind her desk and Nedley in front, and fell into an uncomfortably comfortable silence.

“I put two sugars and a little bit of milk,” Nedley slid a cup over to Nicole. “She taught me how you like it,” he added, not having to mention Waverly’s name.

Nicole stared down at the cup, steam rising softly from underneath the lid. She wrapped a shaky hand around its form and slowly lifted it to her lips, letting the warm liquid slide down her throat. She closed her eyes after setting the cup back down and leaned back in her chair, hands cradling the sides of her face. Nedley watched on in silent concern, leaning forward in his chair to reach across the desk.

“Is it wrong? I can go fetch you another one,” he said, voice lacking its usual gruffness.

“No,” Nicole said softly shaking her head. “No, it’s perfect…Just the way she would make it,” she added, her voice even softer.

They fell back into silence, Nicole rubbing the sides of her head and Nedley sitting by, letting her regroup. It was becoming more and more apparent just how much the other townspeople of Purgatory were being affected by the loss of Waverly. It wasn’t just herself or Wynonna, Jeremy or Robin, at this point; it was anyone and everyone who knew the name Waverly Earp.

“Nicole,” Nedley spoke after a few more minutes of silence. He waited until he held Nicole’s eyes before continuing. “I’ve noticed that you’ve been taking on more hours, way more hours, than necessary. Now, I understand that, as the sheriff of Purgatory, you feel the need to constantly be here, but – ”

“This is my job now, Randy,” Nicole winced at the amount of informality the name carried, “I need to work as much as the people need me.”

“I know, Nicole,” Nedley sighed, “but it isn’t healthy to work this many hours. I didn’t even work this much as sheriff.”

“Did you have your will to live ripped from your life by some demon lord trying to end the world?”

“Well, no, but – ”

“So don’t try to tell me when to work, and when not to work. This is my town now. I have to keep it safe.”

“All I’m sayin’ is to remember that it’s okay to mourn,” Nedley said softly, his eyes not meeting Nicole’s. “And that you are entitled to as much time off as you need. Just, please…think about it,” he said before getting up and leaving Nicole sitting alone in her office.

\- - - - -

Three weeks after Waverly had been taken from them, Chrissy Nedley barged into Nicole’s office. The redhead had fallen asleep at some point during her night shift, never leaving to go home. The door hitting the wall startled the sheriff awake and she sat upright in her chair. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the light of day seeping in through her opened blinds and soon focused on the woman before her. There Chrissy stood, car keys and purse in hand, with a determined look on her face.

“When was the last time you got out of here and truly enjoyed yourself?” Chrissy asked.

“That depends,” Nicole stretched her arms. “How long has Waverly been gone?”

“Nicole,” Chrissy walked behind the desk and pulled the redhead to her feet, “we’re going to go out, and get you some real food. One can only live off of coffee and doughnuts for so long before becoming a stereotype to all cops.”

“Chrissy, I can’t leave. I’m on duty,” Nicole protested.

“Dad is going to cover for you while I take you out. You’re obviously in need of some fresh air,” Chrissy sniffed around, “and a shower. Now come on,” she placed a hand on Nicole’s lower back and guided her out of the office, out of the station doors.

Chrissy brought her to an old diner, the one they used to come to for Nedley’s annual sheriff’s anniversary. Chrissy spoke to Perry, who now owned the establishment, and got them priority seating at their usual booth. When they sat down, Nicole remained silent. She folded her hands on top of the table and kept her eyes down. It had almost been a month since her girlfriend had been taken away from her and the news still stung like a fresh wound, the anger still bubbling inside of her. Chrissy watched on as Nicole’s posture became more slouched as the seconds passed, watching her demeanor slip more and more into a depressive state. There was something burning brightly and fiercely in Nicole’s eyes, and Chrissy knew it was time to have a talk with the redhead about what needed to be done.

“Nicole,” Chrissy started quietly.

“Don’t,” Nicole shook her head, “please, Chrissy, just don’t.”

“You can’t stay mad at her forever.”

“And why not?” Nicole lifted her head, her angry eyes meeting Chrissy’s worried ones. “Why not, Chrissy? Because of her, Waverly is gone!” She slammed her hands down on the table, causing Chrissy to jump.

“I know this news is going to take a long time to sink in, quite possibly forever,” Chrissy said, her voice strong, “but we’re going to have to accept it at some point.”

“Fuck off, Chrissy. You have no idea what it’s like to feel so…t-to feel so _betrayed_!”

“You aren’t the only one who lost her, Nicole!” Chrissy shouted, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “You aren’t the only one,” she repeated in a softer tone. “She was my best friend, too. Do you know when the last time I saw her was?” Nicole shook her head slightly. “It was the night that all of Purgatory had been drugged by Bobo Del Rey. I was holding her hostage in dad’s office in order to lure Wynonna to the station, to get the antidote. After that night, I left town.”

“Yeah, your dad…he said something about you taking time to yourself. To travel.”

“What was supposed to only be a few months ended up lasting years. How do you think I felt when I got the phone call saying that she was taken? How hard do you think it hit me? Huh? I had her tied up and was about ready to do whatever it took to get Wynonna to the station that night. I nearly killed her. And then I left her without even an apology. Now she’s gone and we might not get her back, so I have to live with this guilt. You aren’t the only one who is feeling pain.”

“I’m sorry,” Nicole whispered, lowering her head. “I’m just…lost right now. I don’t know how to cope with this.”

“Start by letting this go,” the blonde reached across the table and took Nicole’s hands in her own. “Start by talking to Wynonna again. She hasn’t stopped bugging me about you.”

“She hasn’t?” Nicole looked up and Chrissy shook her head. “Waverly really has rubbed off on her over the past few years.”

“Yeah,” Chrissy smiled a sad, empty smile, “she has.”

“Waves would hate me if she knew how I was acting right now.”

“You’re mourning,” Chrissy said and squeezed Nicole’s hands. “But you seem to be forgetting that she isn’t dead. No. Waverly Earp is only missing. And it’s up to us, up to _all of us_ , to get her back.”

“But how?”

“Go talk to Wynonna, and start doing what you do best. Go make a plan.”

\- - - - -

Two months after Waverly had been taken from them, Nicole found herself crying in the shower. It was the first time she had shed tears without forcing herself to stop. Her anger had been slowly melting away and had begun to be replaced with something new, something foreign to her body. For the first time in her life, Nicole felt truly broken. Before, she now realized, all of the pain and sadness she felt in the past had been far from the pain of being so alone and helpless, feeling so _broken_. She felt lost without Waverly by her side, and she felt sick to her stomach at the thought of her possibly being gone forever. She sank to her knees, burying her face in her hands, and let the warm water cascade over her, drowning her tears.

Every day for the past month, Nicole had been cornered by Nedley or Chrissy telling her to take time off from work. Denying their pleas, Nicole had put her foot down every time and pulled the sheriff card; Purgatory was her town now and it needed her more than it ever had before. The day after Nicole and Chrissy had gone to lunch, Nicole had cut herself off from anyone and everyone. She would wake up, feed Calamity Jane, get to the station, and lock herself in her office. The only times Jeremy or Wynonna ever saw her was when there was an emergency and she was forced to leave the confines of her office.

Chrissy’s words sat heavily on her shoulders as she weighed her options for her current situation. Yes, Waverly was gone. Yes, Wynonna had drugged her and their other friends. Yes, she had a right to be mad at Wynonna. But…Wynonna killed Bulshar. Wynonna kept Waverly safe, it wasn’t her fault that she wasn’t able to enter the Garden, let alone see it. Chrissy had said to forgive and forget, but that would be easier said than done considering she won’t be forgetting any of this any time soon. Standing up and pushing strands of her now dark red, wet hair away from her face, Nicole made a silent promise to herself.

Wynonna was all she had left. She refused to let that relationship die, too. She was going to get dressed, get to the station, and talk to Wynonna. She was going to set all of her feelings out on the table, while maintaining a professional stature, and talk things through with the raven haired woman. If they were going to get Waverly back, they were going to have to act like women and make amends. Waverly was the one thing they lived for, the one thing they fought for, and they couldn’t get her back unless they worked together.

Nicole stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel, letting the water dripping from the ends of her hair run down her pale shoulders. She looked at herself in the mirror and leaned in close, as if to get a better look at herself. What Nicole saw was the face of a woman who had lost all hope, who had lost her light. Deep, purple bags hung below her eyes, the creases on her forehead were more prominent than before, worry lines. Her face was reflective of how she truly felt, beaten and broken. Her smile was now devoid of any true emotion and lacked her signature dimples, the cursed things that made Waverly Earp swoon for her the day she strolled into Shorty’s.

She was immediately brought back to that day. Waverly was drenched in beer, stuttering like an idiot and struggling to tell her about Champ. It was the day that would come to change both both of their lives forever. Nicole shook her head at the memory, ridding her mind of the memory. Leaning over the sink and turning the faucet on, Nicole splashed cold water on her face in an attempt to refocus herself on the task at hand. So focused on her reflection and so trapped in her thoughts, Nicole didn’t even notice the door creek open behind her. She jumped when she felt Calamity Jane rub up against her legs, purring and meowing for her breakfast. Nicole looked down at the fat, orange tabby and let a soft chuckle escape her barely parted lips.

“You really are impatient, CJ, aren’t you?” She leaned down and rubbed between the cat’s ears before she walked out of the bathroom.

After wringing her hair out and getting dressed, Nicole stood in front of the full-length mirror that hung from the inside of her closet door. Her hair was messy, her shirt untucked and unbuttoned, her tie hanging untied around her neck. She nearly laughed at how pathetic she looked, but shook her head and bent down to lace up her boots. Calamity Jane’s cries of hunger were heard from the hallway and Nicole made her way downstairs to feed the beast. She filled the bowls with water and food and sat down at the kitchen table with an apple and a cup of coffee. A few minutes later and Calamity Jane was sitting at Nicole’s feet, gazing up at her.

“I’ve got no food to give you today, girl,” Nicole sighed down at the cat. “Unless you’d like to chew on the core of this apple?” She cracked a small smile at the disgruntled noise that seemed to come from the feline as she turned and walked into the living room.

“That’s what I thought,” Nicole rose from her chair and discarded the apple core into the trash can, her coffee cup into the sink.

She trudged back up the stairs and to her room to finish getting ready, but immediately got distracted by the picture which sat atop her bedside table, the one that once sat in her living room. The picture of her and Waverly, sitting on the front steps of the Homestead. Tears sprung to Nicole’s eyes as they landed on the frame, but she quickly wiped them away. She walked over to the table and picked up the picture, gently brushing her fingers over the small brunette that was being held tightly in her arms. A single tear that managed to escape the dam that was Nicole’s eyes fell onto the glass, over Waverly’s face, causing it to appear magnified and distorted. Nicole blinked a couple of times, bringing herself back out of her mind, and sighed.

“I’m trying, baby,” she whispered and wiped the tear away from the glass. “I promise I’m trying.”

When she arrived at the station, Nicole didn’t get out of her car. She sat in her seat, hands clenched around the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles had gone white. Her breath was caught in her chest, her stomach tied in knots, at the thought of having to face Wynonna and push past this fierce anger that was still burning brightly inside her. Wynonna had cost their entire team the one thing that was holding them together, but Wynonna also had no control over what ultimately happened to Waverly. In the words of Jeremy, Waverly’s fate had been sealed from the day she was born; she was always going to get trapped in the Garden, it was just the things that led up to that moment that could be altered.

“Come on, Haught,” she told her reflection in the rearview mirror. “You love Waverly, therefore you owe this to her,” getting out of her car, Nicole tightened the tie around her neck and draped her Purgatory Sheriff’s Department coat over her arm.

Her footsteps that crunched in the freshly fallen snow fell silent as she passed through the threshold of the station doors. Nicole made her way straight for Black Badge and gently rapped her knuckles against the cloudy window of the door. She paused, waiting for someone to answer, but nothing came from the other side. She knocked and listened again, but still no response came.

“Wynonna, come on. Open the door,” Nicole said. “We need to talk.”

“Like hell we do,” the raven haired woman’s voice came from behind the sheriff and she slowly turned around. “It’s about time you came around. Come on, Haught-to-trot, let’s go talk in your office,” she motioned with her head to Nicole’s locked office door before starting in that direction.

“Wynonna – ” Nicole tried as soon as she shut the door to her office, but it seemed as if the Earp had different plans.

“Nicole, listen,” Wynonna started as she sat down in one of the chairs in front of Nicole’s desk, “you’re a smart-ish girl, so I know you had a good reason to be pissed off at me. My sister was… _is_ the love of your life, and I know me playing hero alone wasn’t the thing I should have done.”

“Wynonna…” Nicole started again, softer this time, as she took a seat in the chair next to Wynonna.

“You just have to understand…” Wynonna trailed off, trying to keep herself in check. “I need you to know that I never would have done that shit if I knew it was going to end like that. Waverly wasn’t supposed to get taken. Doc wasn’t supposed to go after her. I would never willingly put the people I love in danger, Nicole.”

“Hey,” Nicole reached over and placed her hand on Wynonna’s knee. “Wynonna, I know that.”

“Waverly was the only thing that kept me going. Do you really think I let her go willingly?”

“Of course I don’t,” Nicole shook her head and used her other hand to wipe away the tears rolling down the other woman’s cheeks. “I just…She was my light, too, and I didn’t even get to say goodbye to her.”

“I didn’t either,” Wynonna added in a whisper.

“I shouldn’t have acted the way I did,” Nicole shook her head. “Being mad at you isn’t going to get us anywhere.”

“Waves would be ashamed of us right now,” Wynonna shook her head and gave a humorless chuckle.

“You’re telling me,” Nicole rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her hair. “It took Chrissy Nedley yelling at me to pull the stick out of my ass.”

The two fell into a deafening silence, both looking anywhere except at each other, and both stuck in their heads. It was obvious what their next move needed to be. They needed to forgive and forget, or at least momentarily, and start making a plan to get their girl back. It was a silent understanding between them, yet neither made any sort of move to bring it up. Maybe it was too much to think about at the moment. Maybe they were afraid to vocalize it for fear of screwing things up even more. The predicament they currently found themselves in was something that was going to take more than a hug and a handshake to fix. It was an issue that had its roots planted deep within them, tearing them apart more and more as each day passed. Nicole slowly lifted her gaze from her hands to look at the woman sitting across from her.

“I have nightmares about it,” Nicole confessed quietly, “about _her_.”

“Sleeping alone in the bed she used to occasionally share with you giving you trouble, too?” Wynonna looked up and met Nicole’s stare.

“More than I ever thought possible.”

“Haught, I’m going to propose something, and it might just be the craziest thing I have ever said,” Wynonna sat up straight.

“We’re sitting here, talking about your sister and how she was sucked into a magical garden by a tree branch,” Nicole leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Try me.”

“I think you should move onto the Homestead property,” Wynonna continued. “Bulshar might have ended the Earp curse, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t things out there that want to kill us. Plus,” she looked down at her hands, “I think it would help with the nightmares.”

“You want me to come live with you?” Nicole couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Wynonna Earp, lone wolf and town badass, was asking the rookie flatfoot move in with her?

“I want you to pack a bag, or two, grab that cat, and come stay on my property, yes. Just until we figure all of this out. Until we get her back.”

\- - - - -

Four months after Waverly had been taken from them, Nicole had finally started to feel comfortable being at the Earp Homestead. She and Wynonna existed in silent harmony with one another, their routines never interfering with each other’s. They were like two ships passing in the night, never speaking to each other unless it related to work. It was awkward at first, the embers of what remained of Nicole’s anger still flickering, but as the days passed, the two found themselves less of enemies with each other and more partners. It was a silent beginning to a newfound reliance on each other. There was no judgement, no mockery; their antics lacked their usual bickering which was caused by their lack of interest in consuming alcohol. Wynonna had revealed to Nicole, one night, that Waverly being taken had made her lose her taste for the sweet substance that was always coursing through her veins. She had been sober for nearly three months, and told the officer that it had everything to do with Waverly.

“I can’t find her if I can’t even find my own ass,” Wynonna said, “as stupid as that sounds.”

“Having to be sober to fight isn’t admitting weakness,” Nicole replied.

“I never said it was a weakness,” Wynonna said, tone cold and clipped.

“No, but you implied it,” Nicole glanced to her right at the woman sitting on the couch next to her. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of there. This is a hate-free zone. Whatever is said here, stays here.”

“I’m glad to know that my sister’s girlfriend has now become my therapist,” Wynonna forced a sarcastic smile. “Boy, that’s something I never thought I’d say.”

“What?” Nicole glanced at Wynonna again. “That you and I are actually getting along for once?”

“No,” Wynonna shook her head. “I never thought I’d say my sister’s _girlfriend_ has suddenly become my _therapist_. Waverly, who was straight as far as I know up until the moment she met you, having a girlfriend. That thought alone still takes me by surprise sometimes.”

“I’m just glad she’s had such a great support system throughout this whole process of her figuring out who she really is,” Nicole said softly.

“Waves is lucky, you know, to have someone like you always on her side. She was right when she said you’re easy to talk to about shit like this.”

“Waverly might be my girlfriend, but that doesn’t mean you don’t matter to me, Wynonna,” Nicole said knowingly. “I committed to this crazy family, to all of you. Blood relations or not, Nicole Haught is all in with Team Earp.”

The two fell into a silence that, for the first time in four months, seemed to stem from a feeling of being content. A silence that, four months ago, used to be fueled by anger and guilt. A silence that was now full of hope and a whole new reason to fight entirely. They weren’t just fighting for Waverly or Doc anymore. They were fighting for Purgatory and its citizens. They were fighting for Jeremy and Robin, Chrissy and Nedley. Hell, they were even fighting for Rosita. They were fighting to avenge Dolls and Julian’s deaths, to keep their legacies alive. They were fighting for each other.

“It’s okay to be afraid, Wynonna,” Nicole said after a while.

“If you tell me that being scared will only make me stronger or some other bull shit like that, I swear to God, Haught,” Wynonna rolled her eyes and stared at the fire burning before them, her face illuminated by its orange light.

“I was going to say that it’s okay to be afraid, because I’m afraid, too. Terrified, actually.”

“We’ll get her back,” Wynonna assured both herself and Nicole. “Even if it’s the last thing we do.”

“I know we will, but that isn’t what scares me at this point,” Nicole’s eyes flickered to the framed picture of herself, Waverly, and Wynonna sitting on the mantle above the fireplace. “I’m scared about what’s going to happen to her, what _is_ happening to her, in there.”

“She’s our baby girl, Nicole. Our angel,” Wynonna said, her hand finding Nicole’s in the dark, gripping it tightly. “She’ll fight like hell to make it out alive and safe.”

\- - - - -

Five months after Waverly had been taken from them, Nicole finally found herself able to sleep in Waverly’s room. When she had first moved onto the Homestead, the plan was for Nicole to sleep in Waverly’s bed. The house was old, therefore it didn’t have more than two bedrooms suitable to sleep in. She wouldn’t sleep with Wynonna, for obvious reasons, so her only other option was Waverly’s room. Well, it was that or the couch. She tried for a week, to sleep in the brunette’s bed. It was weird to be sleeping in someone’s bed without that person being there. Not even Calamity Jane’s soft purrs could soothe the unease resting in the pit of Nicole’s stomach.

She lay on the right side of the bed, facing the empty space where her girlfriend would typically be. Instead of the small brunette, Nicole’s eyes found the fat orange tabby in her place. That first night was absolutely miserable. She was unable to sleep, the ghost of Waverly lying next to her, and when she finally managed to catch some shut eye, the nightmares began. They were mentally grueling and demanding of her time. When she awoke from one dream she’d fall asleep and end up in another one. It was an endless cycle she couldn’t seem to break, and it quickly began to take a toll on the redhead. She refused to sleep when in Waverly’s room, instead choosing to lie awake, on her back, staring at the ceiling.

By the end of her first week living at the Homestead, Nicole found herself trudging downstairs and to the living room couch at nearly two in the morning. She was tired, she was angry, and she was more than ready to drop dead at that very moment. Plopping down onto the old couch with a sigh, Nicole wrapped herself in a blanket and leaned back into the cushions, willing sleep to overtake her body. Soon enough, she was softly snoring away, but the change in location didn’t stop the nightmares.

_Screaming._

_There was a lot of screaming. Blood everywhere. A lone cowboy hat discarded on the ground, its owner nowhere in sight. The sound of panting, heavy breathing, could be heard from a mile away._

_What was happening?_

_“_ WAVERLY _!” The name sent chills down her spine, the southern lit to the voice bringing immediate tears to her eyes._

 _It was foggy and humid, kind of like a jungle. But this wasn’t in a jungle. This was a...garden? No. It wasn’t just_ a _garden._

 _It was_ the _garden._

_“Waverly?” She called out. “Waverly, baby, where are you?”_

_“Nicole?” She heard. Looking around, the redhead spotted Waverly several yards away. “Nicole, please help. They’re…” Waverly’s voice faltered. “They’re going to kill me.”_

_Before Nicole had a chance to respond, the sound of a pistol being shot made Nicole jump. She fixed her eyes back on Waverly, only to see her crumpling to the ground, blood pouring from her chest._

_“Waverly!” Nicole yelled. She tried to move but her feet were like cinder blocks, heavy and planted firmly on the ground._

_“It was either shoot, or turn to stone,” the new voice rang in her ears. Doc’s voice. “Shoot, or turn to stone,” he repeated._

_“You’re lying,” Nicole forced out, trying to keep her tears from falling. “You’re lying!”_

Nicole jumped awake, then, startled by Wynonna firmly grasping her forearms. Nicole sprung up, sitting upright on the couch, and looked up at Wynonna. The older Earp was staring back at her with worried eyes and furrowed brows. Nicole sighed and ran a hand through her hair, which was now more than just a little damp with sweat. Wynonna squeezed Nicole’s arms to gain her attention again, and Nicole quickly rose to her feet. There was a brief moment of hesitation before Nicole threw her arms around Wynonna.

“I’ve got you, Haught,” Wynonna said softly.

\- - - - -

Six months after Waverly had been taken from them, Nicole found herself curled up in Waverly’s bed. It was their anniversary. A day that once held such a special meaning, now felt like the worst day of the year. That was a lie, actually. Each day that passed with Waverly still in the garden was the worst day of the year. It was a Friday, and it was beautiful outside, but Nicole couldn’t find the strength to move from the bed. She called in sick to the station that day, lying that she was coming down with something. Wynonna knew the truth, but she neglected to say anything; she knew Nicole needed the rest.

“Haught?” Wynonna gently knocked on the open door to Waverly’s room and leaned against the doorframe. “Me and the guys are heading over to Shorty’s for a couple of drinks. You want to come?”

“I can’t step foot in that place ever again,” Nicole mumbled.

“Look,” Wynonna sighed and walked into the room, sitting on the edge of the bed, “I know that’s where you and Waves met, but you need to socialize. Talking to me can only help you so much. Jeremy and Robin miss you. Even baby Nedley is going to be there. Come on.”

“What happened to you being sober until we get her back?”

“I’ve made an executive decision to drink just this one night. Just come have a couple of beers with us.”

“You have beer here. Free booze and not having to put on a shirt sounds more appealing to me than sitting at the bar where I practically fell in love with your sister nearly four years ago.”

“Nicole,” Wynonna said softly, “please.”

“Wynonna,” Nicole said, her voice agitated. The older Earp gave no response, choosing to just stare Nicole down until she caved. “Fine,” she said a moment later and sighed. “But only two beers and then I’m coming back here.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Wynonna mock saluted Nicole and stood up. “Take your time getting ready,” she said, her voice gentle again. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

Twenty minutes later, Nicole and Wynonna pulled up to Shorty’s in Wynonna’s beat up blue and white pickup. Wynonna shut the engine off and glanced over at Nicole, who was staring at the sign above the door. She reached over and placed a firm hand on Nicole’s shoulder.

“Take all the time you need, Haught,” Wynonna said softly. “We’ll be in there waiting for when you’re ready. We’ll have a barstool with your name on it.”

Nicole nodded, keeping her eyes on the sign. Wynonna sighed quietly and got out of the car, making her way through the swinging doors of the bar. Nicole sat silently in the passenger seat, willing her tears not to fall. She hadn’t been to Shorty’s in months. How could she? Being in that bar was almost as painful as sleeping in Waverly’s bed without her.

The memories they made in Shorty’s, the many date nights spent at the bar playing pool and laughing over a basket of vegan nachos, the fights and the make ups, the secrets shared and the promises made. It was just too much. Nicole couldn’t take it. But...she had to. Wynonna was right, she needed to socialize before she lost her mind. So, she wiped her eyes, fixed her hair, and got out of the car. She glanced back at the street for a moment. The Homestead wasn’t too far away, she could easily run back.

“No,” Nicole took a deep breath and shook her head. “No, you need this. You promised Wynonna. Just a couple of beers.”

She walked into the bar and forced a smile, knowing that her long night was only just beginning. She sat next to Wynonna, Jeremy and Robin to her left. Immediately, the two men starting asking her questions. How was work? How was she holding up? Anything interesting cross by her desk lately? Nicole sat and stated at the beer bottle clasped tightly in her hands, answering their questions like a robot, cranking out answers left and right. Wynonna took notice to the lack of eye-contact Nicole was making and silently motioned for Jeremy and Robin to stop with the questions. She asked Nicole if she wanted another beer, the redhead nodded, and Wynonna got up to go grab her another bottle.

Anyone who saw Nicole without knowing what was truly going on would assume she was angry. Her jaw was set, clenched tight. Her hands were gripping her empty beer bottle so tight that her knuckles had turned white. Her breathing was unsteady. She seemed to radiate angry energy, but she wasn’t. She was angry, but not at Wynonna, not at anyone anymore.

That was a lie. She was mad at herself.

She should have been there to save Waverly. She should have known Wynonna would try to pull something like she did. She should have been there, fighting with Wynonna. But she wasn’t, and the love of her life was taken because of it. It was her fault. And now Waverly was trapped in a magical garden with a vampire Doc who was craving angel blood. The dreams had progressively gotten worse over the course of this journey, the realistic aspect each terror carried becoming more impacting than the last. Each time she found herself in the garden dreamscape, every time she saw Waverly, things ended with death or something far worse. She had watched Waverly get shot, stabbed, thrown into eternal damnation from the gates of Heaven. The screams she heard, the cries of help the brunette made, were too real for comfort.

The thought of failure hit Nicole, then. What if they couldn’t find a way to save her? What if she was trapped in there forever? Or, what if they figured out a way to save her too late? What if she was already dead? Nicole sucked in a sharp breath and closed her eyes tightly at those thoughts, refusing to let herself believe something she had no way of knowing the truth of. She focused on her breathing, her grip around her bottle tightening. Her knuckles turned white again, and her jaw tightened intensely. She heard a crack and felt a sharp pain in the palm of her hand. Looking down at her hands, she saw a large gash crossing the length of her right hand, the beer bottle once held in her hand now a pile of broken glass on the bar top. Blood pooled in the palm of her hand and Nicole stared at it, the pain now dull compared to the pain she felt within her about Waverly. She clenched her hand into a fist, watching the blood run down her arm and drip onto the bar. She let out a shuttery breath and closed her eyes tightly, willing the feeling to go away.

“Haught, holy shit, what happened?” Wynonna sat the fresh beer she retrieved for Nicole on the bar and grabbed Nicole’s arm, trying and failing to wipe the blood up.

“What if we can’t?” Nicole choked out, her eyes snapping open and in Wynonna’s direction. “Wynonna, what if we can’t?”

Wynonna saw tears in Nicole’s eyes for the first time since all of this began, her heart nearly breaking at the complete dishevelled appearance of her friend. The neat and well put together Sheriff of Purgatory was now a hollow shell of who she used to be. It dawned on Wynonna, then, that Nicole had been doing everything in her power to keep it together this entire time. She had been using all of her strength to keep from being vulnerable and weak.

She was on the brink, now, and Wynonna had to let Nicole know that it was okay, that she could break in front of her, that she was going to catch her. One glance and a slight head nod had Nicole throwing herself into Wynonna’s arms at once. Her sobs escaped, then, cascading from her mouth like a never-ending waterfall. Wynonna held her tightly, thankful for the lack of other patrons in the bar. Jeremy and Robin watched on in silent agony, unable to do anything more.

Wynonna gripped the back of Nicole’s shirt tightly with one hand, her other cradling the back of Nicole’s head, grounding her and keeping her from slipping further away from them in that moment. Nicole’s arms hung loosely around Wynonna’s shoulders, blood from her right hand dripping onto the wooden floor of the bar beneath them. The redhead’s sobs were muffled by Wynonna’s jacket, hot tears staining her shirt. They were the pained, broken cries of someone who had finally reached her limits, of someone who was more than ready to give up fighting. But she couldn’t, _they_ couldn’t. Not yet. So Wynonna decided to push her own anger and despair aside to assure Nicole of the one thing they needed to remember.

“We will,” Wynonna whispered, eyes filling with tears. “We will bring them both home. _We will bring Waverly home_.”


	2. Part B - The Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “A week…?” Waverly asked to nobody but herself. “But...I just got here.” She looked at Nicole, watching as she went back to whatever she had been working on before.
> 
> Her hands were shaking, her breathing unsteady. Waverly saw tears threatening to fall from the sheriff’s eyes, but Nicole quickly wiped them away. Waverly got as close to Nicole’s desk as she could, reaching out once again in an attempt to console her girlfriend.
> 
> “Oh, Nicole, I’m so sorry.” Waverly whispered.
> 
> “I see you’ve discovered the Garden’s abilities.” A deep, gruff voice came from behind Waverly, startling her.
> 
> “I-I’m sorry, what?” Waverly turned around.
> 
> “It’s a scary thing, isn’t it?” The man said. “Its ability to reflect the places and people we love the most, forcing us to watch as things crumble before our eyes, rendering us unable to do anything about it.”
> 
> “W-who are you? And why can you see me? How can you see me?” Waverly wiped her eyes. This man surely looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t pinpoint where she knew him from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for how long this has taken! I was having a lot of issues making ends meet and I was suffering from major writer's block as well. But it's here now, and it's finished! I really hope you enjoy the second, and final part of this one shot!
> 
> It's a lot less dark and depressing than the last part, I promise!

Time is a construct. It was created by man in order to keep track of everyday tasks and to keep things in order. Life without the concept of time was limitless. A life with no limits meant absolute chaos. The constraint of time was perhaps one of the central axes the world turned on. That was why, without it, one might go crazy. Without time, there was no real concept of life. To Waverly, time was just a figment of her imagination now. She wasn’t aware of what day it was, nor how long it had been since she was dragged into the dreaded Garden against her will. 

The Garden was different than she had anticipated it would be. A lot darker, a lot grimmer. A lot more vegetation. It was quiet, serene almost, but the air was thick with suspicion. Something was off and Waverly hadn’t the first clue of what it could be. She was trapped, and that was all she knew.

The realization didn’t dawn on her immediately. The gates didn’t close behind her and she was suddenly screaming _holy crap! I’m trapped in the Garden of Eden!_ It was more of a dreamlike realization. One moment, she was being pulled in by a tree branch, and the next...she was waking up in the middle of Purgatory’s main street.

Sitting up and looking around, Waverly felt immediate comfort wash over her body. She was safe, it was a dream. Or was it? Waverly slowly rose to her feet, turning in a small half-circle, taking in all of her surroundings. She was in Purgatory, but something seemed... _off_.

Plants were growing in areas she had never seen before. Not only that, but plants of species completely foreign to Purgatory.

Things were quiet, a bit too quiet for the usual bustling town. Purgatory was a small city, but there was always something happening. Whether it be a bar fight at Shorty’s, a police chase on foot through the center of town, or simply just the honking of horns and revving of car engines. So when Waverly took notice to the lack of noise, seeing cars scattered about and parked askew, things started to slowly click in her head.

Purgatory was devoid of any life which meant something was most definitely wrong. But where to go? What to do?

“Wynonna will know what to do.” Waverly said to herself.

\- - - - -

Aimlessly stumbling down the streets of Purgatory, Waverly slowly made her way down the familiar road leading to the Homestead. The winding dirt path seemed to stretch on for hours as she took tired steps up the driveway. Waverly passed no one on her trek to the Homestead, not seeing any cars on the road or pedestrians walking the sidewalks. She found it odd, getting a sense of déjà vu from the time the Widows placed a sleeping curse over the entire town.

She came to a stop in front of the wooden bridge that crossed the small ditch in front of the house, the old, wooden sign hanging from above still reading _Earp_ carved into the wood. She took a deep breath before crossing over the threshold of the Earp property and made her way to the door. Waverly ascended the few steps leading up to the front porch and paused again at the door. She stared at it, studying it almost, trying to wrap her head around what had exactly happened. She was standing on the steps, watching Wynonna defeat Bulshar. There was a flash of light, a tree branch, and then she was there, lying in the middle of the street.

Taking a deep breath, Waverly wrapped her hand around the metal doorknob and turned, slowly pushing the door open. She stepped inside and looked around. The lights were off, per usual, as the midday sun seeped in through the numerous windows on the first floor. Waverly slowly made her way through the living room, crossing the distance to Wynonna’s room. A small frown crossed her face when she saw her sister’s bed to be empty. The sheets were messy, clothes were in piles on the floor. She noticed the empty whiskey bottles scattered about the room and sighed.

“Wynonna?” Waverly called out. She knew it was a fruitless attempt because, even if her sister were in the house, how could she possibly hear her? It wouldn’t even be _her_ Wynonna; it would be the Garden’s version of Wynonna.

When no response came, Waverly made her way through the other parts of the house, finding it all to be empty as well. Giving up hope of finding anything worth her time in the house, Waverly decided to go and check out the station. Maybe she could find someone – or something – there. Maybe she’d find Nicole there.

Nicole.

Oh God, Nicole. She had no idea. She had absolutely _no idea_. Nicole, who had risked everything to keep her safe. Nicole, her best baby who had sacrificed it all just because she loved her. Nicole, the new sheriff of Purgatory who had no idea her girlfriend was gone. She needed to get to the station.

If the Garden resembled Purgatory, then maybe that meant she could see whatever was going on there as well. It was a stretch, considering she could be in an alternate universe again, or have none of this actually be real...but she had to stay positive.

So, with a frantically beating heart, and a somewhat optimistic mind, Waverly left the Homestead and made her way to the police station.

\- - - - -

A sense of hope washed over Waverly at the sight of Nicole’s cruiser parked outside of the station, causing her heart to swell and a smile to break out on her face. _Nicole was okay._ Or at least, in this version of Purgatory, she was. Waverly was still confused about how it all worked; if this Purgatory was the same as that Purgatory. She was still trying to wrap her head around everything that had happened, trying to distinguish between what was real and what wasn’t; between what really happened and what she thinks _might_ have happened.

She stood ten feet away from the station doors, standing at the front of Nicole’s cruiser. She reached her hand down to rest against the hood of the car, but stumbled back when her hand slipped right _through_ _it_. It was strange, considering she was able to grasp the doorknob of the Homestead’s front door, but she shook her head and looked back to the station, staring through the glass of the doors. Inside, she saw people rushing back and forth, some bearing trays of coffee and boxes of doughnuts while others held folders in their hands, pens at the ready. Her focus shifted to the exterior of the building where there seemed to be an excess of weeds growing up the brick walls, creating an almost jungle-like curtain to the rocky surface.

Again, where the heck were these coming from?

Waverly walked up to the wall and leaned in closer to get a better look. Before her was a combination of plants she had never seen before. Weedy vines overtook the expanse of the wall, nearly resembling the Gibson greenhouse. Reaching her hand out, Waverly was surprised to feel an array of dead, and living, interconnected vines that created a wall of thorny greens. She was no botanist, but Waverly knew for a fact that most of the plants she had been seeing around town - the Bougainvillea vines, the cyprus trees, the fallen oaks - were not such species native to Purgatory.

“The hell is going on here?” Waverly muttered to herself. “This isn’t the Purgatory I know. Which makes me fear…” She trailed off and looked through the station doors once more. “Anyone I see...won’t be able to see me.”

 _“Grow up, Haught, and get your head out of your ass!”_ Wynonna’s voice rang loud in Waverly’s ears and the brunette’s head jerked in the direction of which the voice came. Waverly saw Wynonna and Nicole rounding the corner of the station, heading straight for the doors.

“How can you say that? How can you just...just brush it off like it’s nothing?!” Nicole yelled.

“Because, how the fuck else am I supposed to get her back? Huh?” Wynonna came to a stop and faced Nicole. “How am I supposed to rescue my sister from that deathtrap of a Garden when I’m drowning in whiskey and tears?”

“We wouldn’t even have to be fighting for her life if it weren’t for you and your god damn ego.” Nicole shoved Wynonna back and pushed past her, throwing the station door open and walking inside.

Waverly reached out for Nicole, only to have her hand pass right through the redhead’s arm. Tears sprang to Waverly’s eyes as she watched Wynonna follow Nicole inside, muttering something about police officers and being too stuck up for their own good. Waverly slipped through the open door before it swung closed and followed her sister down the hall. Nicole was sitting at her desk, her old desk, clacking away on the keyboard to the old, bulky computer that sat atop the desk.

“Haught.” Wynonna said, standing in front of the desk. “I’m sorry. Okay?”

“Jeremy has some evidence he wants you to check out before passing it off to our guys here. He says something feels off with it. Supernaturally off.”

“Nicole –” Wynonna started but stopped when Nicole held a hand up.

“I don’t want to hear it. Jeremy needs to see you.” Nicole said sternly, venom lacing her voice. Waverly felt her heart break at the cold, emptiness Nicole’s eyes held.

“I said I was sorry.” Wynonna said, her tone clipped. “I admitted to you that I messed up. What more do you want from me?”

“I want you to own up to your mistakes.” Nicole tightened her jaw and exhaled slowly through her nose. “How could you do this?” She lifted her eyes to meet Wynonna’s. “How could you leave us there when you knew we needed to help?”

“She’s my sister, Nicole! The only _real_ family I have left.” Wynonna yelled. “If you think for one second I did this for anyone but her, that I wasn’t going to fight like hell to keep her safe, _for her sake_ , then maybe you aren’t the one Waverly should be with.”

“Because of you, I’m _not_ with her! She’s trapped in the fucking Garden of Eden!” Nicole slammed her clenched fists down upon her desk, her voice cracking. “You are many things, Wynonna Earp. A drunk, a reckless mess. But above all else, you are a coward.”

Wynonna balled her hands into fists at her sides, her body visibly shaking from trying to refrain from exploding. Tears welled in her eyes, causing Waverly’s own tears to start falling. Wynonna stared at Nicole for another moment before glancing down at the files stacked at the edge of her desk. Without thinking, Wynonna shoved the files to the floor, causing the office to grow quiet.

Neither Nicole or Wynonna spoke, both staring at the papers on the floor. They stared at case files for various missing persons and mysterious goings on, Nicole gripping the edge of her desk, Wynonna’s breathing unsteady. Waverly took a few steps in their direction and crouched down to the floor. Her eyes fell upon her own file, resting at the top of the pile. Wynonna dropped to her knees, Peacemaker clattering to the floor, and grabbed the papers, setting them back on Nicole’s desk.

“It’s been a week, Wynonna.” Nicole said softly, voice barely above a whisper. “How the hell am I supposed to be over it already?”

“You shouldn’t be.” Wynonna replied. “No one is asking you to be.” She added before turning on her heel and heading for the BBD office.

“A week…?” Waverly asked to nobody but herself. “But...I just got here.” She looked at Nicole, watching as she went back to whatever she had been working on before.

Her hands were shaking, her breathing unsteady. Waverly saw tears threatening to fall from the sheriff’s eyes, but Nicole quickly wiped them away. Waverly got as close to Nicole’s desk as she could, reaching out once again in an attempt to console her girlfriend.

“Oh, Nicole, I’m so sorry.” Waverly whispered.

“I see you’ve discovered the Garden’s abilities.” A deep, gruff voice came from behind Waverly, startling her.

“I-I’m sorry, what?” Waverly turned around.

“It’s a scary thing, isn’t it?” The man said. “Its ability to reflect the places and people we love the most, forcing us to watch as things crumble before our eyes, rendering us unable to do anything about it.”

“W-who are you? And why can you see me? _How_ can you see me?” Waverly wiped her eyes. This man surely looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t pinpoint where she knew him from.

He wore jeans with a flannel shirt, which was covered by an old vest. An old, faded baseball cap cast a shadow over his face in the dim lighting of the station and a scruffy beard covered his chin. Waverly studied his face for a moment before the light went off in her head.

“Juan Carlos?” Waverly whispered, as if afraid to speak too loud.

“We’ve been waiting for you to arrive. Both of you.” Juan Carlos smiled.

“We?” Waverly looked around. “Who’s ‘we’? And what do you mean ‘both of you’? I came here alone.”

“Follow me.” The preacher held his arm out, directing Waverly out the station.

Hesitating, Waverly glanced back at Nicole and held back a sob when she saw the desk was now vacant. Turning back to Juan Carlos, Waverly sighed and followed him out the doors.

“I suppose you remember nothing about how you came to be here?” Juan Carlos asked as the two of them made their way down the street.

“I remember being in the forest with Wynonna. Peacemaker was a sword. She killed Bulshar. And then...I got pulled in here by a...a tree branch?” Waverly sighed.

“Do you remember anything after that?”

“No,” Waverly shook her head, “the next thing I knew...I was lying in the middle of Ghost River Avenue just an hour ago. But how does that work? Nicole and Wynonna...they just said it’s been a week since I was...taken.”

“The Garden is funny like that.” Juan Carlos nodded. “It shifts and conforms and messes with you in order to keep you confused. It takes its prisoners and makes sure no one leaves.”

“So it’s like _Groundhog Day_.” Waverly said to herself. “I’ll keep waking up as if I’ve just gotten here every day.”

“Precisely, yes.”

“Great.” Waverly muttered. “Because this is exactly what I need.”

“There is, however, a way to prevent it from happening.” Juan Carlos said as he came to a stop outside of the familiar bar.

“Shorty’s?” Waverly asked, confused, as she looked up at the sign. “What does Shorty’s have to do with helping me?”

“It isn’t the bar itself, but he who is within it.”

“What?” Waverly turned to face him, but he was no longer by her side. He had vanished.

Typical Juan Carlos.

“This better not be some kind of scam leading me into danger.” Waverly grumbled and pushed one of the large, wooden doors open.

Instantly, the smell of stale beer and smoke filled her lungs. Music blasting from the jukebox in the corner of the room filled Waverly’s ears as the sound of a man with a deep, twangy southern accent sang about the woman he loved leaving him for another man. Her head snapped in the direction of the pool tables at the sound of the billiards clacking against one another, fighting for dominance on the green turf. A group of men stood huddled together, clinking beer glasses together and cheering for their friends. Waverly hesitantly stepped down onto the main floor from the front steps of the bar and looked around. Why did Juan Carlos lead her here? She looked around, a feeling of nostalgia washing over her as her eyes landed behind the bar, at the beer taps.

Those damned beer taps.

Nicole flooded Waverly’s mind at that moment. Her red hair, her dimpled smile, her strong arms. The way Nicole would laugh when Waverly would substitute a curse word with some obscure exclamation. The way Nicole never looked at her with pity, even when the world threw her through the ringer. The way Nicole remained persistent with her before their relationship even began, never giving up the fight and knowing Champ wasn’t good enough for her upon the first mention of his name. The way those busted beer taps seemed to betray Waverly on the day she met the love of her life; something she soon came to realize, in fact, helped her on that day.

Waverly’s eyes shifted to the bar top where she saw the top of a head belonging to someone currently crouched down behind the bar. Slowly, a man with a face displaying annoyance stood, reaching for a bottle of whiskey sitting atop the bar. He shook his head as his hand passed right through it. He looked up and right at Waverly, his eyes growing wide.

“Waverly?” His southern accent chimed. “Oh, Waverly, it is you! You are okay!” Quickly, he made his way out from behind the bar and over to the brunette.

“Doc?” Waverly asked, voice hitched. “How can you...how are you…” She trailed off as she thought for a moment. She stared at the man who stood before her with a grin on his face and, suddenly, it made sense. She remembered.

_“I am a weapon.”_

She heard Doc’s voice echo in her head. He went after her. Wynonna couldn’t ascend the stairs herself, so Doc volunteered his life instead. The pieces slowly clicked in her head and, instead of being flooded with relief, she was overcome with anger. How could he? He just left Wynonna in the middle of the woods? Alone?

“How dare you.” Waverly said, voice strong, and raised a hand to slap Doc across the face. “You left my sister out there. Alone!”

“She is the only one who can wield the flaming sword, Waverly.” Doc brought a hand up to his cheek. “I did what she would have done, if she were able.”

“This was _my_ curse, Doc. _My_ future. _My_ destiny. Something I needed to do _by myself_!” Waverly shouted, suddenly thankful for their invisible presence among the bar patrons.

“Now, hold on just a second. What was I supposed to do? Let you get pulled into this world alone and risk losing you completely? Or do what I must in order to keep you safe?”

“Doc…” Waverly whispered.

“I cannot go to hell, Waverly. And I’m running out of time to right every wrong I’ve ever made. Coming after you was my last chance at redemption. For my own sake.” Doc said before pulling Waverly into a tight embrace, despite the smaller woman’s protests.

Deciding her fighting to be useless against Doc’s strong arms, Waverly gave into the embrace and wrapped her arms around the cowboy’s taller frame. She inhaled his scent, whiskey and gunpowder, and immediately broke down into tears.

She couldn’t tell if it was because she was physically touching someone after a week of absolutely no contact with anyone, or because the reality was starting to set in that they were trapped there. Both things brought more tears so her eyes, so it seemed to not matter as Waverly let her tears fall freely.

“I vowed to Wynonna that I would return to Purgatory with you, safe and sound.” Doc said.

“How are we supposed to even get out of here?” Waverly asked, voice hoarse.

“I do not know, Waverly,” Doc gently cupped the brunette’s face with one of his hands, “but we will find our way out.”

\- - - - -

Three months after Waverly entered the Garden, she finally started to grasp how things worked. She quickly learned that she could pass through things, and people, rather than having to avoid them. Her presence there was practically ghost-like. Nobody knew she was there, and she could get around without worrying about giving herself away. Juan Carlos has mentioned there was a way to keep the Garden’s abilities at bay, and she was more than determined to figure out what that was.

She had to become one with the Garden rather than exist separately within it. It was like the time Wynonna had taught her how to play pool, back before everything fell apart before her eyes. Wynonna told her if she wanted to shoot the ball into the pocket, she had to envision herself as the pool cue and hit the ball at the right moment. The only thing was...she had to figure out _how_.

Waverly was the pool cue, and the Garden was the ball. She had to get behind her target and figure out the easiest way to knock it into the hole without hitting any other balls on the turf. She couldn’t hit too hard, or too soft. She had to use just the right amount of force at the right angle, and never hesitate. Standing in the middle of the woods, surrounded by Bulshar’s former murder trees and a variety of trees foreign to the area, Waverly stared at the dead hunk of wood before her, thinking. How was she supposed to get out when the gates seemed to have vanished?

It was as if there truly was no way out, and she was only being strung along like a puppet.

Juan Carlos had yet to grace her with his appearance since two weeks prior to that day, giving Waverly every affirmation she needed to know that he was going to be absolutely no help to her, or Doc, in terms of cracking the seemingly secret code of the Garden.

 _“There is, however, a way to prevent it.”_  The padre’s words echoed in her head, hanging heavily over her shoulders.

“Yeah, but what the heck is it?” Waverly muttered, lightly kicking the tree before her.

“Waverly,” Doc’s voice came from behind her, “I believe the padre, Juan Carlos, is unable to aid us. He is merely a vessel here to guide us onto the right path.”

“Some vessel he’s been.” Waverly muttered and crossed her arms.

“I don’t understand your anger with me.” Juan Carlos’ voice startled both Waverly and Doc. “I told you there was a way to prevent the amnesia-like state of waking up in the same place every day, with no memory of the day before. You found your key.” He motioned to Doc.

“Great, so now I can be stuck here and remember every second of it.” Waverly snapped. “I appreciate the help in finding my friend, but how does this help with, you know, escaping this place?”

“That is something I’m currently unable to tell you. And, for the record, I’m not even aware of what it is.” Juan Carlos looked between Doc and Waverly. “It isn’t simple, but it isn’t impossible. Learn your turf, know your enemies, learn to fight them.”

“But what about –” Waverly sighed when Juan Carlos vanished. “Great. Fantastic.”

“He always was an elusive man.” Doc shook his head and pulled a cigarette and lighter out of his coat pocket. “Never one to stick around after spitting out a cryptic message such as that one.”

“You two are old legends.” Waverly placed a hand on her hip and looked around. “Any idea what he could be referring to?”

“You are the one with all of the knowledge, Waverly.” Doc nodded his head in her direction before lighting his cigarette. “I suppose you might be the one who leads us in such discoveries.”

“Research.” Waverly sighed, both out of aggravation and relief. “It always goes back to the research.”

\- - - - -

Nicole trudged down the hall and to her office, not bothering to close the door behind her. She sat down behind her desk, immediately dropping her head against the wood surface. It was nearly four in the morning, hours before her shift was set to start, but she was there anyway. Waverly assumed it had to do with her. It had been four months since she had entered the Garden, and every day that passed, Waverly found herself standing outside of Nicole’s new office, waiting for her to arrive. Each day it seemed her arrival time got earlier, and her departure time got later.

One of the biggest negatives to being in the Garden was the lack of sleep needed. It was a strange sensation, Waverly thought. She had initially tried to sleep, but found herself just lying on the ground, eyes closed, but never really falling asleep until the sun came up. So instead of hunting down any whiskey she might be able to get her hands on, like Doc, she settled for playing alternate dimension stalker with her girlfriend.

Nicole looked terrible, to say the least. Her appearance was that if someone who had been drop kicked off of a moving train. Her hair was a mess of red atop a sea of pale skin. Bags hung heavily under her eyes. What was once a vibrant and heart-melting smile was now devoid of any emotion, any dimples. Nicole’s head remained resting atop her desk, and Waverly found her eyes drifting over to the couch on her left.

Instantly, tears welled in her eyes at the memory of the day she practically jumped Nicole’s bones. She remembered how nervous she was; nervous about Nicole not feeling the same, nervous about overstepping any boundaries they had put up. They had only just defined their friendship, and Waverly took a risk. It was something that changed her life in all the best ways possible, and never did she expect to fall so hard for someone so quickly.

Waverly walked over to the couch and sighed. She glanced back at Nicole, who had now moved to a sitting position and had a pen in her hand. She watched as the redhead began working, writing and typing various notes on spreadsheets and case files. Nicole seemed more determined than Waverly had ever seen her. Maybe it was because she thought the harder she worked, the easier it would be to move on. Maybe Nicole had already moved on.

“She’s mourning.” the new voice startled Waverly. “She hasn’t moved on, Waverly, and I don’t think she ever will.” The brunette’s eyes landed on the man standing in the doorway of Nicole’s office and forced back a sob, still not used to seeing his face.

“Well,” Waverly shifted her stare back to Nicole, unaware of the tears falling from her eyes, “she might have to. I have no idea how I’m supposed to get out of here.”

“You’re a smart girl, an honest kid.” The man continued. “I haven’t a doubt in my mind you’ll figure it out.”

“I’m no hero.” Waverly shook her head. “That’s Wynonna. How am I supposed to do this?”

“You have strength, and courage, you barely know. The battle has only just begun, but I have a very strong feeling you’ll come out on top.”

“How do you know that?” Waverly looked up. “How do both of you have so much faith in me?”

“You’re my daughter, Waverly.” Julian smiled. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s that you are capable of getting yourself out of here.”

“I seem to have some big shoes to fill.” Waverly offered a half-hearted smile and ran a hand through her hair.

“You’ll figure it out. You learned how to harness the ring’s powers. You can do this. And Waverly?” The brunette lifted her eyes to her father. “Remember to stick to what you know. What you _really_ know.”

Waverly sighed when he disappeared, leaving her alone with Nicole once again. The redhead had paused her work and was staring at a picture of Waverly she had rested on her desk. She was mumbling something Waverly couldn’t make out and had Julian’s ring clutched tightly in her hand.

Waverly let herself sink to the floor and sob.

\- - - - -

Six months to the day of Waverly becoming trapped in the Garden, Waverly found herself standing before the large, red doors to the Garden’s entrance. Standing there, staring at the very thing that had trapped her where she currently found herself, left a feeling of unease in the pit of her stomach. Doc stood beside her, Julian and Juan Carlos behind them, and they stood in silence as the severity of the situation hung over them.

“Are you sure about this, Waverly?” Doc asked for what seemed to be the thousandth time. “You don’t know what could be in there.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” Waverly replied. “But I have to do this. It’s the only way I can save them.”

“Your life is on the line, darlin’.” Doc turned to face Waverly. “Let me go in and fight whatever may stand beyond those doors. You must return to Purgatory, not me.”

“You can’t, Doc. You know that.” Waverly replied softly.

“Only the one of whom has been touched by the holy can step up to the throne.” Julian said as he ascended the two steps separating him from his daughter. “And Waverly is the only one among us capable of such things.”

“I have to do this.” Waverly said, mostly to herself. “I have no one to prove anything to but myself. I have to do this for me.”

“Once you’re in there, you’re going to see things that aren’t real. Don’t fall for the tricks of the Garden. Keep your eyes straight ahead, keep the sword at your side, and step up to the throne. Only after you’ve beaten the temptation will you be able to take your place.” Julian gently squeezed Waverly’s shoulder.

Waverly looked down at the sword clutched firmly in her hand. It resembled that of the sword Peacemaker had turned into, except it lacked the ability to flame up and glow. Slowly lifting her gaze back to the Garden’s doors, Waverly took a deep breath and pushed them open. Waverly made her way through the archway, not turning back for fear of losing what little strength she had left. Immediately, Waverly was engulfed in white light. She squinted and looked around as her eyes adjusted to the change of light.

“What the hell is she doing here?” Waverly heard someone whisper. She immediately identified the voice as Willa’s.

“She isn’t dead yet?” Wynonna’s voice followed.

“She seems to have gotten a lot hotter since the last time I saw her.” Waverly could feel Champ’s smirk from a mile away.

“Her looks really were the only thing I was with her for.” Nicole added to Champ’s comment.

Waverly bit her lip, pulling it hard between her teeth, as she continued on with steady strides. She knew they weren’t real, she knew they were only projected images of the Garden, but something struck deep within her as each comment passed through her ears. Gripping the sword’s hilt tighter in her hand, Waverly crossed the seemingly never ending expanse of land, sighing when the throne came into her view.

As she neared the throne, Waverly noticed that it looked different than she thought it would have looked. It was old and crumbling; a pile of rocks falling apart, it seemed, with each step Waverly took. She came to a stop in front of the throne and looked around. She looked down at her feet and immediately took a step back. There, on the concrete beneath her, the words “حديقة الجنة” were engraved in arabic. Waverly immediately recognized them as the same words inscribed on the bottom of Julian’s ring.

_Garden of Paradise_

Waverly took a deep breath and stood up tall. She turned and faced the expanse of the Garden. She was met with so many familiar faces, all staring at her with anger and pity in their eyes. Some were family members, some were friends, and others were people Waverly hadn’t seen in years. She knew they weren’t real, she knew they didn’t mean the words they were saying, but that didn’t make what she had to do any easier. She had to defeat her demons. Literally.

In an instant, they were charging for her. Fury burned in the eyes of Willa and Champ as they approached her on quick feet, hands outstretched and ready to grab her. Waverly held the sword in front of her, stabbing the end through Champ’s lower torso. He crumpled to the ground without so much as a grunt. Before she knew what she was doing, Waverly swung the sword in the opposite direction and impaled Willa, along with Jeremy who had run up behind her.

Waverly continued fighting, each death she caused becoming more painful than the last. She felt the blood coating her hands with every swing of the sword, tears burning hot in her eyes, and she had to keep reminding herself that it wasn’t real. None of it was real. The only sounds she heard were her own screams and her heart beating in her ears. Slicing one demon after another, Waverly took down all of her fears and doubts that were personified by the people who had the greatest impact on her life. One by one, they all fell to the ground until Wynonna and Nicole were the only two left standing. Wynonna had Peacemaker drawn and trained on her, while Nicole had her weapon drawn likewise.

“You’re a failure.” Wynonna spat. “No one could ever be proud of anything you do. All you do is fuck up and push everyone away.”

“No one could ever love you.” Nicole added. “You have too many problems, too many doubts and fears, to be loved.”

Waverly closed her eyes and let them approach her. She felt time slow down when she heard Wynonna cock Peacemaker. She raised the sword above her head and, in one swift motion, brought it down upon them both as hard as she could. The sharp slicing noise of metal passing through flesh rang loud in Waverly’s ears and she felt blood splatter onto her face. Tears sprang to her eyes at that moment and a loud sob escaped her mouth as she dropped to her knees, dropping the sword on the ground. She was bruised and beaten, tired and worn out. She was tired, so damn tired of fighting a battle she knew she was bound to lose.

She had no idea what she was supposed to do then. She was guided to know that the things she saw within the gates were not real, but that was where her knowledge ended. It wasn’t until she felt a hand on top of her head that Waverly opened her eyes. She was met with Julian’s face in front of her own. He had a smile on his face, his brown eyes sparkling in the non-existent sunlight. Waverly looked into his eyes and instantly knew what choice she was soon to be faced with. She knew exactly what needed to be done, no matter what the cost. Wynonna had done her part to attempt to get her back, she felt it. It was time Waverly did her part.

“Take it.” Waverly whispered. “Please, just take it. I don’t care.” She added before Julian could say anything.

Julian nodded and moved his hand to cup Waverly’s chin. “Waverly, daughter of Julian, guardian of the Garden of Eden, you shall return to Purgatory as half the woman you entered here as before. The prophecy predicted you to win the war against evil for us all. Leave this place as our savior, leaving behind your angelic relations to stand and keep watch over the Garden until the end of time.”

There was a loud noise, and suddenly Waverly felt the presence of her father leave. The blood on her hands and face was gone, the sword on the ground in front of her was no more. She felt lighter, _freer_ almost, and it nearly caused a laugh to escape her mouth. She slowly rose to her feet and opened her eyes, once again standing before the gates of the Garden. Waverly took a deep breath and reached a hand out, resting her palm flat against the door and pushing slightly.

The doors slowly opened and a bright, golden light flooded her senses, causing Waverly to shielded her eyes. She stumbled down the steps, hearing Doc’s faint voice speaking words she couldn’t make out. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the woods, her gaze fell upon Wynonna. Her sister’s arms were wrapped tightly around Doc, tears streaming down her cheeks. Waverly quickly descended the stone steps and heard her footsteps crunch heavily on the fallen leaves on the ground, a sound she hadn’t heard in the Garden.

Wynonna’s head snapped in her direction at the sound and she nearly shoved Doc aside as she ran to her sister. The two embraced, arms clamping around one another in a bone-crushing hug. Wynonna lifted Waverly off of the ground and spun around, tears spilling from both their eyes. When Wynonna finally released Waverly, she framed Waverly’s face in her hands and looked deep into her eyes, searching her face for any injuries.

“Where’s Nicole?” Waverly asked, voice quivering and her hands shaking. Wynonna took a step back and looked Waverly up and down, nodding when she saw no injuries.

“She’s at the Homestead. Long day at work...Mumbled something about doubting this would work. She went straight home, not able to be here anymore. It was too painful for her, for us all.”

Waverly just nodded and hugged Wynonna tightly one last time before taking off in the direction of the Homestead.

\- - - - -

Waverly took the front porch steps two at a time, reaching the door in three short strides. She opened the door and stepped inside, closing it soft so as to not awake Nicole. The first thing she noticed was the copious amounts of books and folders scattered about the house. She made her way into the kitchen and saw Calamity Jane curled up in her bed next to the table. Waverly smiled softly at the sight, knowing that Nicole really was there, and that everything seemed to be as normal as it could have remained throughout all of the chaos.

It was strange to see everything so disorderly and chaotic. It didn’t resemble what Waverly had seen from within the Garden in the slightest bit. Waverly crossed the kitchen and made her way over to the table, where a stack of files sat. Waverly assumed they were the same files she had seen months before, the ones sitting on Nicole’s desk the day she realized that she was in the Garden. Waverly’s eyes scanned the faces of the people printed onto the files before her eyes landed on the file sitting atop the pile.

Hers.

It looked no different than from the last time she saw her file at the station, except for the messy and mostly illegible handwriting, belonging to Nicole no doubt, scribbled all over the file in a failed attempt to make ends meet and find a way to rescue Waverly. Waverly sighed and ran a hand through her hair before closing the file and depositing it in the kitchen’s trashcan. She took a step back and looked around, this time her eyes landing on the mess of what must have been Nicole’s uniform on the floor. Before making her way upstairs, Waverly walked over to the door and tidied up the area by hanging up uniform shirts and pants, and putting boots and hats in their respectful places in the closet or on the coat rack.

Without further delay, Waverly finally made her way to the old, wooden staircase to the left of the living room. Taking each stair one step at a time, Waverly closed her eyes and gripped onto the handrail as the anxiety started to build up inside of her. She quietly made her way down the narrow hallway, her footsteps silent on the wood floor. When she reached the door to her room, Waverly reached out a shaky hand and slowly turned the doorknob, slowly pushing the door open. She stepped into the room and immediately her eyes landed on her bed, where she spotted a Nicole shaped lump under the covers, just barely illuminated by the moonlight seeping in through the open curtains.

Waverly slowly approached her bed, taking extra small steps so as to not wake her sleeping girlfriend, and stopped just a few steps away. Kneeling down on the floor next to the side of the bed on which Nicole was sleeping, Waverly placed a gentle hand on the redhead’s cheek. She brushed some of the fiery locks away from her face and bit her lower lip when Nicole stirred slightly under the touch, but relaxed when Nicole remained asleep. When Waverly’s skin made contact with Nicole’s, she felt as if it were the first time their bodies had ever made contact. Six months she had been gone.

Six months without being able to touch Nicole, or kiss Nicole. Six months without Nicole’s hugs. Six months without speaking a single word to Nicole. It all felt so surreal to Waverly in that moment, like it was a dream and she was about to wake at any moment. Waverly had seen Nicole hit some of the lowest points of her life during the time she was trapped. She had seen Nicole submit herself to coping with alcohol, to hitting the deepest and darkest depressive abyss she had ever seen.

There were bags under Nicole’s eyes, her hair had grown longer and seemed dirtier than Waverly knew Nicole ever kept her hair. Her forehead was creased with worry lines and her breathing was sporadic and shallow. She was a complete and total mess, but Waverly thought Nicole had never looked more beautiful. Waverly gently ran her thumb over the crease between Nicole’s eyebrows, smoothing it down with soft strokes of her finger. Her breath caught in her chest when Nicole’s eyes slowly opened and, for the first time in what felt like forever, hazel eyes met brown, sleepy ones. Waverly knew that Nicole must have thought it was all just some sort of fever dream and that it wasn’t real, so she gently moved a hand to cup Nicole’s chin, the knuckles of her other hand gently brushing against the sheriff’s cheek.

“Real.” Waverly whispered. “Here.” She said.

Nicole’s brow wrinkled in confusion before turning into fear and then anxious. There had been too many sleepless nights for Nicole, too many realistic dreams of that very scenario, for her to believe it no matter how much she wanted to. Waverly could read her expressions like an open book, knowing the redhead better than almost anyone else, including her own self. So when Waverly gently caressed Nicole’s cheek with her hand, feeling the contact of Nicole’s skin beneath hers, she knew there was no denying how real everything in that moment was.

Waverly was there, and she was going to stay.

Nicole slowly reached her hand up from underneath the bonus blankets covering her body and placed it atop Waverly’s still resting on her cheek. Waverly tried to hold back her tears as she felt the warmth of Nicole’s hand over hers. With a gentle squeeze to Waverly’s hand, and a dimpled smile still heavily infused with traces of sleep and worry, tears spilled from Nicole’s eyes as she uttered the one word that had been aching to leave her mouth for six months.

“Yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on Twitter!  
> deputyydipshit

**Author's Note:**

> So? How are we feeling, Earpers? Have I broken your souls yet? Don't worry, happy things are to come! I can't say how long it will be before Part B is completed, but I'll have it up as soon as I can!
> 
> Come yell at me on Twitter!  
> deputyydipshit


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